


Moments with Sweet William

by Wren Truesong (waywren)



Category: Francis James Child - English and Scottish Popular Ballads (The Famous Flower of Serving Men)
Genre: Other, femgen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywren/pseuds/Wren%20Truesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse at the lives of the King, and his Famous Flower of Serving-Men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments with Sweet William

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trifles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trifles/gifts).



> Thank you so much for introducing me to this ballad! This has been marvelous.

It had all seemed—well, not _easy._  Nothing could be easy when one had buried one’s husband and infant son with no help, no shroud, not even a spade.

But cutting off her hair, dressing in what of her husband’s light gear she could find, even mounting the horse astride instead of side-saddle… that had been… simple.

Yes, simple was probably the word.

Joining the ranks of the courtly servitors hadn’t been too difficult, either.  Her liege-lord had been heavy in courtiers, but scantily equipped when it came to lights of loyalty or even competence.  While her swordwork would never be in demand, her efficiency and common sense sometimes seemed like an entirely new quality.

If she hadn't wanted to be His Majesty's chamberlain in the first place, she'd have taken the place as head of his Household out of pure pity. 

That she might have any difficulty had never crossed her mind.  A household was a household, wasn’t it, however increased in consequence? And she had run her husband’s quite happily—

A querulous bray pulled her out of her thoughts before she could manage it.

“It was promised me by the last house-master but one, and I’ll have what I ‘m owed!” the huddled figure—she thought he might be the third assistant pig-keeper—insisted.

Sweet William racked her brain. What was he here for, again…? 

But the petitioner was still talking.  “I’ve ciphered it three times and asked the Hag besides, and it comes to a’ntang’bility cloak, a pair o’ seven-league boots,  an’ one o’ those kittens from that Cheshire Cat.”

…and that would be why she’d retreated into reverie, Holy Mother save her.  She flipped through the accounts book to cover her distraction.

“The boots are on record, Dero,” she said slowly, “and I see no reason why you can’t have them as soon as the cobbler’s finished.”

Dero nodded sharply, but the beady gaze was keen on her fingers as she traced the line.  (The chamberlains _had_, at least, done their best to keep the household accounts organized, and she blessed them for it.)

“The Intangibility Cloak, though… what deed did you perform to earn such a boon as that? All you have listed here is pig-wrangling, and only magical duties can merit magical rewards.”

“It warn’t just any pig-keeping!” Dero insisted, scowling fiercely.  “It were the _Tran’senent Pig!”_

Sweet William felt her brain scramble out of sheer incredulity.  “…you tended the Transcendent Pig?”

“Dot I did, an’ it weren’t no joke neither!  Oh, he’s a vicious one, that he be, always slippin’ about in time—eatin’ the slops afore they’re even in the kitchen midden,  bein’ in the pen right up ‘til you  go to shut him into it an’ then he’s in the courtyard, or the solar, or havin’ sup with them as  lives under the Hill.” Dero shook his head, almost fondly.  “An’ me the one what has to go after him.  S’what I want the kitten for, see.”

She darted a look down at the enchanted ink bottle, which was glowing blue.  _Truth._  She reeled.

“…I suppose that does make sense,” her voice said faintly.  “The intangibility cloak will take some time to weave, but we should have it for you before Michaelmas, I think.” She smiled wryly at him.  “As for the kitten, I’m afraid you’ll have to take that up with the Cat herself.  Or himself, if he’s decided to change today.”

Dero grimaced, and she nodded in commiseration.  The Cat was usually easygoing, but heaven help the living creature that approached it when she decided to be a mother.  Fortunately, _that_ was not one of her duties.

 “Fair enow,” Dero said reluctantly.  “Guess the Hag was right about waitin’ two chamberlains afore I collected… yer as fair as she said ye’d be.”

“I… it’s my duty,” Sweet William said in some bewilderment.

“Just makes it more important when ye do it, then.  There’s some on us as ain’t so honest.”  He tugged at his hood and turned to leave.  “Fair mornin’ to you.”

“Wait—“ her voice was acting on its own again.

He turned.  “Sor?”

“….how did you come to be wrangling the Transcendent Pig, anyway?”

“Why, he were payin’ a call to our own Oracular Pigs, o’course,” Dero grinned.  “It was ruttin’ time.” 

By the time Sweet William had fought down her blushes, he was long gone.

***

 King Richard doffed his crown and was once again Richard the man--well-born, well-educated, well-trained but only a man.

Sweet William, his chamberlain and valet--_call it truth, your helpmeet--_caught up the circlet and polished it with his sleeve.  "You shouldn't treat it that way, Majesty," he scolded.

"That crown has outlasted my grandfathers," Richard huffed. "It'll outlast my granchildren."  But William's smile was so sweet and gentle that his irritation faded away like a spark cast on stone. 

_He always does that to me..._

William was already undoing his belt, folding it away as Richard struggled out of his tunic  This was all natural, of course; nothing he hadn't had done by any other valet a thousand times,. Even for Sweet William this was the twenty-third...

...but somehow, when William helped him unlace his trews, Richard felt his face heat. What was it about his valet that reduced Richard to his squire days, leggy and longing and made of nothing so much as hero-worship and dreams of glory?

William glanced up, catching his eye.  The delicate face, beardless to peach fuzz, was immediately suffused a charming scarlet.

Richard had to grin at him, squeeze his shoulder, just as his own knight-guardian had, once upon a time. Had it been like this for the man who'd taught him the ways of brotherhood on the field, of man and maid, of shield and sword?  Was his William a mirror of his past?

 Perhaps.

William rose smoothly to his feet, folding the trews over one arm.

_...But then again, perhaps not,_ Richard reflected with a grin.  Certainly _he_ had never been so graceful at that age.

His mind eased, Richard allowed William to help him into his sleeping clothes, drape him in a fur robe and settle him in the chair before the fire.  It was only when William brought him a goblet of wine that his thoughts moved him to speech.

"Stay a moment, Sweet William."

"My king?"

"Pour yourself a bit of that, and let me talk awhile with my Chamberlain."

William's smile was sweeter than any of the rest.  "If you will, your Majesty."

 

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of detail on the [Transcendent Pig](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transcendent_Pig), if you're curious.
> 
> One of his lights of love, the marvelous [Hen Wen.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hen_Wen)
> 
> This was a lot of fun to write--I hope you like it.


End file.
